touch
by matchboxcars
Summary: his eyes darkening and squeezing shut as if he had no idea of what to do with that which was barraging him


Author's note: I have writers block for my other story. Sorry. So I wrote this instead, please review!!! Thanks )

He used his administrative override to unlock the door, and feeling somewhat perverse, somewhat like a murderer, and somewhat like a paramedic, he followed the tortured sounds with great rapidity to the door of his first officer's bathroom. Knocking softly and entering all in the same movement, he felt time become lethargic, in the way he slowly opened the door, and hesitantly approached the shaking form on the floor, vomiting into the toilet, and then, by the time he reached it, falling back, curling up into itself, shutting its eyes.

"Spock?"

The man didn't answer him. Kirk became aware of the gaunt face, the greener than normal complexion, the deep emerald smears under the eyes, he was so thin, the blue sweater hanging off of him, doing little to keep the Vulcan warm. Spock closed his eyes, seemed to tense his shoulders as much as he could muster, before hoarsely answering

"Captain"

He was about to ask him what was wrong, why he wasn't better, McCoy had said that he was fine, healthy, the man he was looking at was neither of those things. He was about to ask him what was wrong when Spock, with a wince and an almost stifled moan pressed his fingers into his temples, breathing heavily. Kirk stepped outside and grabbed a blanket off of the bed, but paused indecisively before wrapping it around Spock's shoulders.

"Spock, tell me what's wrong?

The Vulcan seemed not to hear him, his eyes darkening and squeezing shut as if he had no idea of what to do with that which was barraging him.

"Spock?"

Kirk came desperately close to his face, not touching him for fear of hurting him even more,

"Spock, tell me what's wrong"

The Vulcan seemed to struggle to push the words out of his mouth,

"hurts, T'Pring, bond, gone, severed, pain"

Anger pressed into Kirk's temples towards the woman, towards the culture that had rejected his dear friend, his kind and intelligent friend. But he quashed it quickly, forcing his attentions to matters more crucial, to Spock, trembling in pain, unable to speak.

Kirk wondered if he should help him out, to his bed, where he could lie and rest, but just as his fingers reached out to Spock's arm, his mind flashed to a lecture from the academy,

"_Just because you are human does not mean that all other species will be like you, many do not have the same social structures and traditions, some do not eat the same way, or communicate, some do not want to be touched, others do, always assume that there is a difference."_

There was no way for him to find out. He had to trust his instincts, and so, quelling the thumping of his heart, he reached for Spock, wrapped his arm around the bony shoulder, and whispered, "come, lets get you into the bed, is it okay if I touch you like this?"

Spock practically leaned into the touch, nodded, and slowly forced himself to stand, and with wobbly steps, made his way with Kirk to the bed. Jim supported himself against the wall as Spock limply leaned against him, and when he moved to lay Spock down, the Vulcan protested, a silent, "stay" that froze Jim in his place.

"I thought this would be painful for you?"

Shamefaced and labored, Spock looked down at the blanket draped over him,

"No"

It suddenly dawned on Kirk, the severed bond, the rejection, the torn space in Spock's mind, and he drew the Vulcan closer to him,

"I understand, come closer, I think I get it now, just relax, you haven't slept in ages have you?"

Spock seemed to give, his entire body softening, the pain drifting away, sleep coming over his eyelids, all to Jim's soothing and sympathetic voice, holding him close, almost rocking him.

He awoke in the morning to calm, the first that he had had in a while, and was pushed down when he moved to get up to help Jim with the cleaning,

"You need to rest"

"I am recovered"

"like hell you are, now stay there, I'm getting breakfast for us both and then you are taking a trip to Bones'"

"captain, I fail to see the imperative…"

"shut up, I'm the captain, I care about you, and god damn it Spock if you need to be touched, just say so, you could have avoided all that agony, that pain, if you had just said 'captain, I believe my over all well being would benefit from contact with you.'""

At Spock's raised eyebrow, Jim chuckled a little, looked down, "yeah, that does sound a little strange…just, I don't know Spock, I want to help you, you know that, and why the hell wouldn't she want a legend, answer me that."

Spock's near stoic face took on the ghost of injury, and Kirk's expression softened when he didn't answer, and instead looked down.

"not the kind of legend that is a good thing huh?"

"one that is impure to begin with, and then disobeys his father"

"Spock"

The Vulcan raised his hand and with a shake of his head, gently said,

"it is what it is, I am what I am, the pain is not from rejection, I am accustomed to that, no, it is simply the removal of something from my mind that has been there since childhood, was installed with pain and removed with it. I am sorry you had to be the one to fix and witness the after effects.

"I'm not"

Spock's eyes met his and nothing more was said, but Kirk saw the soft fluttering of pain behind the dark orbs, and moved quickly to embrace the man, who sighed and sank back into Kirk. A few minutes later Jim rose, leaving Spock once more asleep, and quietly rang Sickbay, explained the situation to McCoy, who was there with in ten minutes, with two breakfast trays and a med kit. Spock awoke but said nothing as the doctor looked him over, but McCoy compensated for the silence quite admirably.

"He's underweight Jim, severe mental stress, fatigue, physically weak, suffering from debilitating migraines and muscle and intestinal pain, Damn it Spock I thought you were okay."

The Vulcan winced, Jim laid a hand on his shoulder, and answered the doctor,

"I'll take care of him Bones, just keep this quiet okay?"

"Yeah Yeah Jim, I've been doing this for a while, I know how to keep my mouth shut."

"thanks"

"It's my job"

"but still"

"I know Jim, I know, take care of him, call me if you need anything."

"will do"

As the door slid shut, it seemed as if another wave of pain had hit Spock, and so, gathering a tray, Jim plopped back down on the bed and wrapped his arm supportively around his friend.

"eat"

Spock looked at the man as if he had just told him to slay a perfectly harmless kitten, but at Jim's insistence, he tenderly chewed a few bites of fruit before exhaustedly falling back into Kirk.

"Okay, it's an improvement, you can sleep more now"

The Vulcan gratefully closed his eyes, but snapped them open as a thought came to him

"Jim, you do not have to do this"

"don't worry about me, I want to help you, I always want to help you, just get better, I need you to get better."

"thank you" he whispered, and shut his eyes, as if finding out, at last, what solace meant, where friendship was, what it was like to be accepted. He slept, and it was dark, but there was a garden, and he was walking, and suddenly, softly, he hears a whisper, a voice calling him over to the blue lilies, a hand on his back, a finger pointing towards a small insect, the questioning eyes of a friend, perhaps the only friend, most certainly the most precious. It would be alright.


End file.
